


plans, promises, and the princess

by Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Jyn Erso, F/F, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Multi, OT3, One Shot, Polyamory, happy poly ending, wlw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27055186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome/pseuds/Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome
Summary: How much harder can it be to rescue a princess than to retrieve the Death Star plans? When hearts are involved, it turns out even the best plans can go awry.
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso/Leia Organa, Cassian Andor/Leia Organa, Jyn Erso/Leia Organa
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	plans, promises, and the princess

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy. Comments are, as always, most welcome.

When Jyn wakes up in the med bay, she’s not sure what to expect. At first, she wonders if it’s an Imperial one, and she’s a prisoner. Again. But no, it’s too full of a hodge-podge of equipment, too cluttered with obsolete tools. The Imperial aestich is nothing if not precisely modern. And then, she wonders if it’s a dream, and the whole mission to Scarif was nothing more than a nightmare.

What she absolutely didn’t expect was for the damn Rebels to take those plans, paid for with blood and pain and heartbreak, and stick them in some stupid droid, then jettison it over Tatooine.

“What the…” Jyn trails off, before swearing quite fluently in Huttese, even as she’s told by the rebel soldier watching over her that this is a good plan, that they’re sure the plans will end up with General Kenobi.

“Who’s he?” Jyn asks, and regrets asking very quickly, when the soldier rambles on and on about the jedi-general-whatever’s deeds. They sound very epic, and… ancient. How was someone twice the age of her father supposed to fix this mess? “And he’s going to … blow up the Death Star. All by himself?”

“I would assume so.” The soldier says.

“And Cassian? Where’s he?”

“Major Andor--”

“Major?”

“He was given a battlefield promotion,” the soldier rushes to say. “I… I really think you should probably lay down. Get some rest.”

“No.” Jyn rustles around in the vest she’s thankfully still wearing, making sure she has her blaster, her tools, and all her other supplies. All in all, she doesn’t feel half bad, even if she can’t remember much of Scarif. She knows that she and Cassian got the others onto a transport, that Bodhi, Chirrut, Baze, Kaytu… they’re all safe. And dimly, she remembers telling Cassian to get his sorry ass on the ship or she’d throw him onto it.

She might even remember kissing Cassian, though she isn’t sure if she’d rather pretend it was a dream. It might make things awkward between them. The whole… being in love thing… never really worked out well for her. She can’t be held down any more than starlight can. Jyn needs her freedom, as much as she wants to be loved. And Cassian might just love her. Or have said something stupidly close to that, as he was trying to convince her to take the last spot on the transport.

It had been Kaytu, she remembers now, that had grabbed them both, plopping them into the last free space, and pointing out that neither one weighed more than an average humanoid, nor was too tall to fit, and therefore, they could _share._

Jyn rather hated the concept of sharing. Perhaps it was because she was an only child. That’s what Hadder had teasingly suggested once. She’d told him that no, it was because she liked _having_ things and not having to fight for a share of them. He’d just kissed her and promised her that she would always be a fighter, but he hoped that one day, she’d find that some things, when shared, only grew larger and larger, rather than needing to be fought over.

She’d still taken the last piece of uj cake that day, which had been what the discussion was over. Now, though, she wishes she hadn’t… that she’d let him have the cake, that she’d done a hundred things differently.

But the past is the past, she knows, and now she’s in the present, stuck in a med bay, listening to how the Rebels are going to screw up all her hard work--all the hard work of all of the members of Rogue One.

It’s a stupid plan. Some old general isn’t going to be able to destroy that massive battleship, any more than an ewok would be able to destroy an AT-AT.

But if Cassian is alive and she’s alive, then it’s time to finish the work they started. “Where is Major Andor?”

“He… well. He might be already gone… I…” the soldier stares off into the distance. “You see, uh, there’s a princess. She’s… well. She got the plans, then got captured, then--”

“The Death Star plans,” Jyn says flatly. “The ones that went to a droid, then went to fierfeking Tatooine. The ones that--”

“Yes,” he nods. “Those plans. Major Andor is heading out to rescue the princess.”

“And the plans?” she raises an eyebrow, which feels strange. Her hand touches her face to find that there’s a wound there, filled in with bacta, but sure to leave a scar on her forehead. She shrugs it off. At least she’s alive.

The soldier has started to look rather pale. He bites his nail as he mutters, “no, just the princess.”

“Right.” Jyn pushes herself to her feet.

“Um. Miss. Miss Erso… Should you be standing?”

“That’s Lieutenant Erso, thank you,” Jyn snaps, because really a military title is better than _Miss._ “And I have to use the ‘fresher, so excuse me.”

Jyn doesn’t head to the fresher. Instead, she sneaks out of the med bay, and though her head is aching and a thousand smaller injuries are clamoring for attention, she hurries toward the landing bay.

* * *

The landing bay is quiet, far quieter than the last time she’d left it on the mission to Scarif. It appears to be the middle of the night, something Jyn had failed to check upon waking, and there’s little more than reflected star light illuminating the waiting ships. But in the far edge of the bay, she spots movement. A large droid checking over the exterior of what must be a stolen Imperial shuttle.

Kaytu. So she’s not too late. Something almost like relief washes over her.

Though Jyn tries to be stealthy as she approaches, Kaytu spots her anyway. Instead of acknowledging her, he states to what appears to be empty air, “Erso located you.” A moment later, Cassian slides out from under the ship. There’s a smear of oil on his cheek, and bandages on his left hand, but here’s here, and he’s alive.

“Leaving without me?” Jyn asks.

“Well, I…”

“Did you even tell the others you’re going?” she folds her arms. “I thought we were a team.”

“They know,” Kaytu stated. “Cassian informed them one hour ago. Bodhi Rook is in training to become an X-Wing pilot and--”

“I told them,” Cassian cuts in. “You were still asleep. Chirrut said he would watch over you in my place.”

“That is not accurate,” Kaytu cuts in.

Cassian stands and sighs. “He said that he’d _allow his watch over you to insure you are where you need to be_ or something like that. I thought it meant you’d be safe.”

“You can’t keep me safe. There’s a war going on.” Anger flares within her. Is this what love’s done to him? Is he going to try to bundle her up to keep her safe, suffocate her with so-called compassion?

“I know!” Cassian snaps. “Hells, Jyn, I know. That’s why I wanted you here. Safe, until you’d healed.”

“You’re not healed,” she counters. “What is it, four broken ribs?”

“No.”

“It’s six,” Kaytu adds. “And a shattered wrist.”

Jyn moves past Cassian and climbs into the open cockpit of the shuttle. “Good thing I’ve only got bruising.”

“And a concussion.”

“I’ve had worse,” she mutters as she sizes up the inside of the ship. It’s well-stocked for a rescue mission, though she’s not sure how Cassian was planning to fire any of the blasters with a broken hand. Or for that matter, what in the Force’s name his plan was to begin with. “So. You’re rescuing the princess. I’m coming.”

“I was going to attempt to,” Cassian says, pushing away the tools on the floor, then climbing into the cockpit, Jyn can see he’s moving slow. It makes her own ribs hurt, just watching him limp toward her. “I have to. It’s my fault she was captured. The plans--”

“She volunteered to carry the plans,” Jyn interrupts. “It’s not your fault.”

“But if I’d--”

“What, choose better companions on your mission to get the plans? Is that it, Cassian?” Jyn can’t quite understand why she’s this mad, why she, who always valued her freedom, is clinging to the Rebel spy. “If you’d had someone better than me, maybe things would have gone smoother?”

“No!” Cassian crosses the tiny space between them. His arms reach out, to rest on her shoulders. For a moment, she thinks he’s going to shake her. Instead, he pulls her in, with his one good hand, so she’s resting against his chest. His bandaged and broken hand smoothes down her back. “No. There’s no one better than you, Jyn. You saved my life. Maybe more than once.”

“You saved mine, too.” her voice feels too small, so she burrows her face against his coarse brown jacket, trying to pretend that’s what’s muffling her, and not the tears burning in the corner of her eyes.

“Then we’re even,” he replies, though she doesn’t think he means it. Not in the way the phrase is often said, at least. Where hearts are concerned, matters can rarely be so evenly measured. “And you know I…”

“You what?” Jyn looks up at him, her fist still clenched in the lapel of his jacket.

Cassian bends down, carefully, so aware of both of their bruises until his lips brush hers. It’s nearly not a kiss, for how shy it is. But it’s all she wants, here, in this moment, so Jyn tugs him a little closer, until the kiss deepens, and drowns out all her worries.

“Do you want me to say it?” he asks her, a minute later, his eyes bright and his cheeks flushed.

She shakes her head. She knows what he wanted to say, what he’d be willing to say, and she’s not quite sure she’s ready to hear it. If he loves her, and she loves him, how will that work? How will she be able to keep him safe, when he’s a spy and she’s a… a girl without a future, or at least, no future that feels right to her? Love, Jyn thinks, is too much about loss and never enough about tenderness. It’s so often a promise that can never be kept, a broken mirror that can never be repaired.

Better not to say it than to say it and break the promise some day.

* * *

When Jyn convinced Cassian to allow her on the mission, dangerous though it may be, she’d never expected she’d be challenged to a game of Sabacc by a droid in order to be allowed to sit in the co-pilot’s seat. The hyperspace-streaked stars fly past them as Kaytu makes his point, that although he is very comfortable elsewhere in the ship, he had rather planned on sitting as co-pilot, as Jyn had not been invited on this mission.

“Things go wrong when you are on missions,” he tells her.

“And they go right when you’re in charge?” she fires back.

“Kaytu,” Cassian glances up at the droid with a gently pleading expression. “She is injured.”

“I am not.”

“Your vitals state that you are.”

Cassian pinches the bridge of his nose, all pleading and softness gone. Oddly enough, Jyn thinks that there’s a comfort in the bickering. It reminds her of the best of times with Saw and the others. A warm companionship that might just be called family, if one wanted to. A familiarity, and a trust, that was never easily won, but once having it, made life all the better. When Kaytu begins reading off Jyn’s vitals, Cassian sighs, “Or maybe I’ll just take a walk outside into empty space and let you two sort it out.”

“That would kill you, without any chance of survival.”

“Yes, Kaytu, that’s what I’m trying to imply.”

“I would not like it if you were dead,” Kaytu replies, as he moves away from the cockpit seats. “Either of you, in fact. Please do try to remain alive.”

That, more than anything he’s ever said before, makes Jyn smile. “I’ll try.”

“Statistical analysis tells me you are most likely lying, given that you are prepared to enter into the ship known as the Death Star, which suggests you will have less than a 1% chance of survival.”

“What was our survival chance on Scarif?” Jyn meant it jokingly, but looking over at Cassian, and down at her own wounds, she realizes that no, there’s no joke at all. They could have died there, in the sand, without the plans ever safely rescued. Without a thousand things said, and without any promises ever made.

“Less than .000013%, based on available data.”

Some cultures, she’d heard, said thirteens weren’t lucky. Maybe that isn’t true for Rebels. Jyn nods. “Well. I’ll do what I can to improve my odds. I promise you. Cassian, you’ll stay in the ship--”

“No--” he begins, turning toward her.

Kaytu interrupts. “Technically, your odds improve to 2.1% chance of survival without Cassian following. Retaining a getaway ship is vital to any chance of success.”

‘That was supposed to be your job,” Cassian replies.

“According to probabilities,” Jyn starts, though she’s distracted by all the blasters she can see against the wall to her left, “though i’m no expert, Target Practice is least likely to be detected.”

“Jyn Erso is correct.”

“Then it’s settled,” Jyn grabs the most wicked-looking pistol and gets to work checking its systems. “Cassian stays, I go and get the princess, we get back, we get going.”

“The question will remain who will sit in the copilot seat on the return journey,” Kaytu states. “Probabilities of failure aside, Cassian, who will you choose?”

“I…”

“My memory banks do state that you told the princess of Alderaan that she could always sit next to you, if you were flying.”

Cassian’s pink cheeks have turned into what just might be a full-body blush, if the color on his neck is any indication. Jyn stops checking over the various weapons. “Cassian?” she asks. “Did you and the princess… know each other?”

“They shared a room,” Kaytu says. “On the base on Dantooine.”

“They did?” Jyn’s voice holds only a note of surprise, before she shrugs and settles back into her seat. It doesn’t matter to her. The past is the past, and he knows she’s no princess. Likewise, she knows that he’s not the type to want her to be one. “Quite a fancy ex-girlfriend then, Cassian.”

“I…” he lets out a bone-weary sigh. “Yes. The princess and I… we… there was…”

“You could just say you’d slept with her.” Jyn cuts in, if only to watch Cassian’s blush get even worse. “I’m not upset. It’s in the past.”

Cassian scrubs his face with a hand. “It… it is. But she...and I... “ he clears his throat. “Before you, I’d… I’d considered seeing if she… if she could forgive me for leaving her. I’d had to take on a mission and I couldn’t tell her that and…”

Though the teasing had been fun, Jyn is smart enough to drop it when she senses that Cassian is now actually distressed. She leans over, squeezing his shoulder. “Hey,” she says softly. “You should. Once we rescue her, okay?”

The words surprise her, nearly as much as they do Cassian. But she thinks about them, in the resulting silence, and realizes that yes, she means them. She knows all too well how complicated love is, how part of her will forever love Hadder, even as the rest of her falls for Cassian. She knows too, that nothing in life is certain, and no moment should be taken for granted. Her parents, including Saw, had never told her something as silly as the idea of forced monogamy. Jyn had only heard of it from others, throughout her life. All she knew, and all she believed, is that love, brilliant, wonderful, heartbreaking love, is rare enough that it cannot be tamed, cannot be caged up and subdued with rules.

When he still doesn’t speak, she knows she’ll have to. “I don’t mind if you have others you love,” Jyn says softly, sounding more reticent than she’d ever had before. The weight of the past and the possibilities of the future all press down on her, feeling almost exactly the same as her ribs had, before she’d been given a bacta patch. “I can share.”

“You sure about that?” Cassian’s thumb brushes a lock of hair away from her cheek. “Jyn, I--”

“You loved her first,” Jyn mutters. “I can be second.”

“No one’s second,” he shakes his head. “You two are both in my heart. Equal.”

“Right under the Rebellion, right? Cause the cause is first.”

Cassian opens his mouth to argue with her, but she winks, revealing that it had been a tease. They’d been through hell together. She knew how much the cause mattered to him, and didn’t hold it against him--even if she didn’t understand it.

“You’re incorrigible,” he says, a faint chuckle escaping him. “You know, I think the princess will like you.”

“Everyone likes me,” Jyn retorts.

“Data proves that is not true,” Kaytu’s voice echoes from beyond the closed door. “I can provide a list of people who have clearly stated that they dislike--”

“And I’m sure the list of people who like you is just astronomical, Kaytu.” Jyn fires back, shouting from her seat at the closed door.

Cassian, meanwhile, pretends to be very focused on the dashboard’s tools, even though none of them were necessary in hyperspace. When the two, girl and droid, are done bickering, he clears his throat. “Thank you, Jyn. For understanding. And for what it’s worth, please know you do not need my permission if you wish to pursue any other romantic engagements.”

“Romantic engagements?” Jyn lifts her scarring eyebrow. “Was that quoted out of the Rebellion protocol book?”

“Uh. No,” Cassian replies, tugging a bit at his collar. “I just… I just want you to be you, Jyn. Exactly as you are.”

It’s a strange request, from one person who had used a hundred names and worn a thousand disguises to another who had spent most of her life lying in one way or another. But it’s sweet, and when she can’t find the words to say that, she leans over to kiss his stubbly cheek.

They spend the rest of the journey through hyperspace sitting in silence, hand in hand. Eventually, Cassian briefs her on the plan, which Jyn plans to alter, though she makes no mention of her modifications to Cassian. She figures as long as the basic mission--get in, get the princess, get out-- is the same, when she promises him that she’ll do what he asks, she’s not exactly lying.

She’s just being a little creative with the truth.

* * *

When Jyn opens the door of cell 2187, deep inside detention block AA-23 within the Death Star, she’s not sure what she’s expecting. A haughty core-worlder, probably. Covered in makeup, most likely. Or maybe some tiny, delicate thing, afraid of every shadow of the Empire and utterly unable to fight back.

What she doesn’t expect is to be tackled by a surprisingly sturdy being. Jyn hits the floor of the cell with a yelp that’s immediately muffled by a rather soft hand. A hand that’s warm and delicate and still has a little bit of some expensive perfume that reminds her of flowers and pastries and life lived a lifetime ago.

Jyn blinks and finds herself staring up into brown eyes that are as calculating as any general’s, despite the fact they belong to a woman not much older than her.

The princess.

Her long hair, twisted into two large buns, looks so soft and silky that Jyn’s fingers twitch with a small urge to twirl a strand around her finger. Her white dress, billowing around them both, is spotless, showing her wealth with its color. It’s rather flattering, for a dress, Jyn has to admit, though a strange thought appears in her mind, wondering how the woman above her would look in a pilot’s leggings and loose shirt. It’s a stupid, an incredibly stupid, thought, and yet it’s there, instead of any more useful one.

It’s the princess that’s got her mind going a hundred useless ways. Or rather, who the princess actually is, rather than who Jyn had thought she was. It had been easy to scoff at the concept of the Princess of Alderaan, but now, faced with her as a person… Jyn can only marvel. No wonder Cassian loves her. She’s small, yes, and slender, but she’s got Jyn trapped as neatly as a fighter would, with her arms pinned down, unable to reach her blaster. It’s the sort of position Jyn would normally fight her way out of, as she had a thousand times before, but right now… she finds herself _blushing._

Which is absolutely not what she expected to do when she met the damn princess.

“Hi,” Jyn mumbles, overcome with something that embarrassingly enough feels like a childhood shyness. Really, the fact that she had mostly rocks for friends was probably to blame for that one. “I’m here to rescue you.”

The princess tilts her head. “Is this one of Tarkin’s tricks?”

“Nope. No trick. Hate the guy, though.” Jyn wiggles her way out of the princess’s grasp. “Let’s go.”

“Wait. Who are you? A bounty hunter?”

Jyn shrugs. “Sometimes.”

“Did my father--” then, the princess cuts herself off, clamping one hand over her mouth. Alderaan is gone. By the looks of it, the princess knows that too. Jyn watches as the princess battles her own grief, locking it away with a blank expression Jyn’s seen in her own reflection too often. “Thank you,” the princess says. “But the Rebellion Alliance, if that’s who paid--”

“Nobody paid me, okay!” Jyn climbs to her feet, finding that the princess is actually shorter than her, a fact that is almost impressive… and leads to thoughts of what it would be like to gently lift her chin and kiss… Jyn shakes her head. No. She’s got a mission. And a Cassian. That’s more than enough stuff going on in her life. A crush on a princess, who may or may not already be in love with Jyn’s Cassian… it would just complicate things.

“Oh,” she smiles. “So a rescue, then? You must be incredibly brave to come here.”

“Yeah, a rescue.” Jyn rubs the back of her head, her fingertips feeling her own shorter hair, and wondering just what she’d gotten herself into.

“I see,” the princess approaches her, and so swiftly that Jyn thinks she might have imagined it, places a kiss on Jyn’s cheek like a tiny benediction. “I’m glad.”

Then, as if they’re no more than two women out on a stroll, Leia steps past Jyn, into the cell block hallway. “You broke in here alone? You’re as smart as you are bold.”

The compliment wraps around Jyn’s shoulders, warming her better than a blanket, and leaving her more than a little tongue tied. “I… no. Not alone. I… Cassian…”

At this, she turns, her eyes wide. “Cassian? He’s still alive?”

Jyn nods. No time for anything more than that. No time to even acknowledge how much that hope in the princess’s voice cut into Jyn. Instead, she urges the princess down the empty halls, hushing her each time she asks a question. That only makes the princess ask more questions, though.

“So Cassian survived Scarif? How?” Leia asks, just as the door shuts behind them, leaving the two women in a tiny silent room, a waystation between two hallways.

Jyn, busy slicing into the locking mechanism of the door they’d just entered from, to keep it locked, mutters, “I don’t know. I was pretty out of it.”

“You two know each other then?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” Jyn finishes her task, then heads to the next door. “Come on.”

“Wait. I’d like more information.”

“And I’d like a nap, your majesty, but we don’t always get what we want. Let’s go!” She can hear the thud of troopers feet in the ceiling overhead, and knows that they could be discovered at any moment.

The princess doesn’t move.

“Time to go, your highness,” Jyn reaches out to tug her by her sleeve, but it only serves to bring her closer, so close that Jyn can see every rise and fall of her chest, the smallest tell that the princess, haughty and calm as she seems, is scared.

“I have more questions.”

“Cassian will answer them later.” Jyn resists the urge to say that Cassian has a lot to answer for, like not warning her that the princess was as feisty as she was beautiful.

‘I’d like you to answer them. For example, what’s your name? You look familiar.”

Familiar? There was no way she’d know that. They’d been kids the one time their paths had crossed, and Jyn had never really gotten a good look at the princess anyway. “Look, your illuminated royalness, we--”

“What’s your name?”

“What’s it matter to you?”

“I don’t know!” She stomps a white-booted foot. “I’d asked, originally, so I could _thank you_ for so kindly rescuing me _,_ but you’re being such a clod-footed, stubborn-brained, uncivilized BANTHA!”

“Hey!” Jyn points at Leia, “watch who you’re calling uncivilized.”

“Why should I?”

“Because, your highness…” Damn it. The princess had her answering questions, instead of sticking to the plan. Without any further thought, Jyn leans in and kisses her on the lips, in some sort of last-ditch, incredibly foolish attempt at both proving she wasn’t a bantha and trying to stop the princess’s questions.

Instead, all it did was ignite every nerve ending in Jyn’s body, waking her up better than a whole pot of caf. The kiss, warm and sweet, with the princess pressing closer to Jyn’s, as if she’d thought the very same thing, melts all her frustration. Jyn loses herself in the kiss for a moment, forgetting the plans, forgetting the mission, and only, only, only thinking of the princess. Her heartbeat seems to thud in time with Jyn’s, as the kiss deepens. It’s so full of longing that Jyn’s knees grow weak. It’s more than she’d hoped for, that moment they’d been on the floor of the cell and yet, it’s not enough at all.

When the kiss ends, it leaves Jyn breathless and flushed, staring at the smaller woman.

“I’d prefer,” the princess says, her cheeks still flushed. A tinge of guilt hits Jyn. What had she been thinking, kissing a princess? How stupid could she be? “That you call me Leia.”

“Leia?” Jyn asks, trying it out the way she usually tried out stolen beverages. It tastes as sweet as Corellian whiskey and just as dangerous.

Then, the princess--no--Leia-- smiles. She leans up, on her tiptoes, her free hand sliding into Jyn’s messy hair, pulling her down toward her, and kisses her. The kiss has none of Jyn’s spontaneity. Instead, it seems as if the princess had been planning it for at least a fair amount of time. As the kiss deepens, Jyn wraps her arms around Leia, holding her close, marveling at how warm she is, how good this feels.

“I’m sorry I kissed you without asking,” Jyn mutters, as Leia’s lips brush over her neck. Like a loth cat, Jyn arches her back, aching to be touched more. “I...that was uncivilized of me.”

“I rather liked it.”

“Really?” Jyn’s fingers, usually so deft with locks and computers, feel clumsy now, as they trace circles on the silky white gown draped over Leia’s shoulders. She tries not to imagine how soft Leia’s skin must be. She fails, miserably. Damn it all to the hells, Jyn thinks. She’s got it bad, just as bad as she does for Cassian. When she’d felt that first flare of affection and longing mix, when Cassian had looked at her in that elevator, she’d been sure that would be the last time in her life. She’d been so sure that her bruised and tired heart couldn’t care for someone else, not after all the earlier losses. And now? It feels as if her heart received as much healing as the rest of her body had, back in the med bay on Yavin IV. Jyn feels young and giddy and foolish. The emotions are strange, strange enough that she’s not sure she should kiss Leia again, on the off-chance she might swing the princess into her arms, or something else equally embarrassing.

“If we survive this, please know you may kiss me like that at any time…” Leia pauses to playfully kiss the tip of Jyn’s nose, “provided you tell me your name.”

At any time? Did that mean… Could there be a future for them? Where was Kaytuu when she needed him to tell her the statistical luck of _that_ impossible thing. A princess and a… whatever-the-hell Jyn was? Not a rebel, not a smuggler. Just… herself. That’s all she is, and therefore, it’s all she can offer the princess. Jyn takes a steadying breath. “It’s Jyn. Jyn Erso.”

“Nice to meet you, Jyn,” Leia responds. “Now, I believe we should probably get going? Was that your message?”

“Uh . Yes. Yes, we have to go. Cassian is waiting for you. For us. He’s waiting for us.” Had Jyn been this flustered the first time she’d kissed Cassian? No, surely not. They’d been more focused on surviving. Which did remind her, that, yes, they are in peril now, even if it didn’t feel like it right at this moment, with Leia looking at her as if she is the sun and all the stars.

“Then, let’s go to him,” Leia replies.

As if those words hang over their heads as they make their way toward the hanger, trusting that Kaytu will be completing his part of the mission ensuring the shields will be down, Jyn starts to tell Leia the truth.

All of it. She tells her about Cassian, yes, but she tells her about losing her family, over and over, about losing Hadder. About loving and trusting and being left alone when it’s all over. And Leia? She tells Jyn about the weight of the crown, the loneliness of losing an entire planet. The two, though there is still a great deal of healing left to do, begin the process together, hand in hand.

And when they do rendezvous with Kaytu, (to his considerable confusion), and the danger grows, the two keep their wits about themselves. The last five minutes of the journey prove to be a harrowing sprint across the bay, dodging blaster bolts as Cassian fires back at the Empire, keeping them safe.

They’re nearly there only a meter away from the ramp, when one surviving trooper fires. In a split second, the sort of moment a heart chooses before a mind ever does, Jyn pushes Leia forward, out of the way of the bolt, just in time to save her. There’s not enough time to keep herself safe, though, and the searing pain bites into her leg. Her vision goes black, just as she sees Cassian and Leia, together, reach out for her, pulling her into the safety of the ship.

When she wakes, she sees them together. Watching over her. Worrying over her. She tries to tell them not to worry, but the words don’t quite form. Instead, she receives a kiss from the princess first, then Cassian sits next to her, as Leia leaves to presumably attend to matters in the cockpit.

“Jyn?” Cassian asks, a hand on her knee. “Leia told me…”

“You said I could kiss anyone I wanted…” she mumbles. “I…”

“I meant she told me you took a blaster bolt for her.” He chuckles, reaching out to cup Jyn’s face tenderly. “I don’t care about anything else. I just want you to be safe.”

‘Both of us?”

Cassian kisses her, slowly, carefully, as if he’s forgotten how to. “Yes,” he whispers. “Both of you. I’d like nothing more than to have you both in my life.”

“Oh.” Jyn says, softly. She considers the concept for a moment, as if it’s a particularly interesting rock she’s stumbled upon. It feels… right somehow. Less about sharing, and more about keeping each other safe. The three of them have lost so much. A family. A planet. A reason to fight. If they could find something small, something good, together, maybe that would be enough to keep going. Maybe that would be enough so that none of them would be alone again.

“If you are…”

“I want that,” Jyn whispers. “I want us. All three of us. I promise you, I do”

The last things Jyn remembers meld together into a medley of emotions. All of them warm. All of them comforting, even as her vision blurs once more. She remembers the taste of that sweet promise, the affection in Cassian’s eyes, and the soft lullaby Leia sings to her as she falls asleep.

What she doesn’t remember is her two loves holding her hands, willing her wounds to heal and her body to rest.

What she doesn’t remember is the landing on Yavin IV, or the frantic rush to the med bay.

She does remember healing, though. Recalls the squealing hum of lights and the mouth-drying taste of bacta. Remembers the way it feels to have her wounds dressed and her bones mended.

All of those things, though, fade, when she’s carried to a bed by Cassian, and carefully wrapped in blankets by Leia. There’s no bitter taste when each of them kisses her, nor any noise at all but the sound of peaceful breathing.

There is nothing else but the three of them, together, and that is everything.

* * *

When Jyn wakes up, safe and sound in her bed on Yavin IV, with a princess in her arms and a spy making breakfast, she’s not quite sure what to think. At least, not at first, as her mind catches up to the past two days she’s had.

She grunts out, “are the plans safe?”

“Yes,” says the princess, sounding just as sleepy as Jyn. “And the Death Star is gone.”

“Oh.” Jyn flops back down, her head on the pillow that’s surprisingly comfortable for being military issue. “Damn. I’d have liked to see that explosion.”

Her comment wins her a soft giggle from the princess, who finally stirs enough to give Jyn a kiss. “I’ll tell you all about it,” Leia says. “But after breakfast?”

Glancing over at Cassian, who’s busy working something close to magic in the tiny electro-burner, chopping and frying and stirring, smiling all the while, Jyn nods. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

Cassian pauses in his work only long enough to look over at the two women. The soft smile he’d had while cooking grows to a true grin, unlike any she’d ever seen from him before. “Good,” he says. “You’ll need it. You’ve been asleep for sixteen hours.”

Jyn lifts one aching shoulder in a shrug. “Just a little nap.”

“There’s plenty of food,” he starts transferring the meal from the skillet to three plates, “but you only had enough caf for two mugs worth…”

“I don’t drink caf,” Leia jumps in, sitting up as she does. Her delicate hands untie her long braid, allowing the chestnut curtain to ripple down her back. And just like she’d daydreamed, Jyn steals a moment to wrap a lock around her finger, marveling at how soft it is. Leia turns to her, planting one more kiss on Jyn’s lips, before escaping from the bed and padding barefoot across the room, to kiss Cassian too. “Although, with both of you causing adventures in my life, maybe I shall start.”

Jyn chuckles. She moves a little slower than Leia had, toward her two loves, with every joint and muscle now proclaiming just how tired they are, but makes it there without faltering. She slides an arm around each one’s waist, placing herself in the middle, and feeling surrounded by affection as warm as the breakfast. Cassian kisses the top of her head. He smells like spices she can’t name and the shampoo she’s come to recognize as both standard-issue for all Rebels, and somehow, just his.

The moment feels more like home than anything she’d experienced in years. It’s warm and good, and freeing. This love isn’t a snare, nor a cage. She’ll be able to wander, as much as she needs to, and will be able to come home to them. They will keep each other safe, and, perhaps, though she hates to admit it, they will keep her safe too. It’s strange, Jyn knows, to go from being a solitary person to having them here. But it feels right, more right than anything else, better than she’d ever imagined.

“The food’s getting cold,” Cassian murmurs. “Shall we?”

“Let’s,” Leia says. Jyn’s too busy stealing a bite of food out of the still-hot skillet.

As the other two fill their plates, Jyn takes a long sip of her own caf, though it’s not nearly as energizing as the way Leia and Cassian are looking at her; as if she’s all they ever had wanted in their lives. It's a feeling better than any warm bed, more filling than any meal. Jyn thinks that she might never get enough of this feeling, of this certainty that she is not alone, that she is safe, and that she is _loved._

She teasingly pokes Leia's side, “you can’t start drinking caf til tomorrow when I get more. Because I don’t share.” 

"Ah," the princess responds. "Of course. You only pretend to be so generous as to risk your life for both the cause and me, but really you're--"

"Incorrigible," Cassian cuts in. He kisses Jyn first, then says, "just as you are, Leia," and kisses her next. "Both of you. Utterly impossible."

Jyn turns, pulling them both down onto the bed with her, agreeing with the sentiment, and the suggestion of further kisses. There’s no space between any of them as they lay down, a tangle of limbs and love, all of them happiest, here, in this moment, together. Some things, when shared, really could grow, more and more each day, until there would be enough love to span the whole galaxy.


End file.
